


The Summer

by Vancityfire



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, F/M, Scotland, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-20 12:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10662966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vancityfire/pseuds/Vancityfire
Summary: Sent away to stay with her Cousin Mo for the summer, Rose must try to adapt to the new world of a remote Scottish village and her strange new neighbours.





	1. 1.

“I love you, stay safe sweetheart.”

Rose stood on the train platform, twisting her shoe nervously into the concrete. She looked sullenly up at her mother’s eyes that pleaded for her to understand. She didn’t.

“I don’t wanna go. ‘S just supposed to be you and me.” The words tumbled out again, pointlessly. Her voice broached the line with whiney and she tried to hold back a little. Her Mum could forgive a lot, but not the spoiled brat behaviour.

“I know darling, I’m sorry. It’s just for the summer, I promise.” Her mum’s fingers ran through Rose’s shoulder length hair. “You’re going to love it up in Scotland with Cousin Mo, she’s got a really nice place now.” Rose resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead trying to avoid her mother’s gaze entirely.

Rose knew it was pointless but still she shuffled onto the train with a practiced look of forlornness directed back at her anxious mother. As the train sped off, Rose couldn’t help but give a half-hearted wave when she caught her Mum wiping away a tear. Everything on the train felt larger than life, or rather she felt smaller. She wanted to be brave. A passing stranger helped her place her suitcase in the overhead and she spent the journey sitting by the window clutching her worn pink backpack like a life support system. The train hurried past grey towns and fields of sheep and Rose started to wonder if she was heading to Scotland or the ends of the Earth. Were they the same thing?

Eventually she found herself on an empty platform, the ‘Inverstrachan’ station sign swung in the wind above her head as she looked around anxiously for her Cousin Mo.

Rose tried to temper her panic when the minutes ticked by, her Cousin Mo was always late for everything. Despite her determination to stay calm, she jumped near a foot in the air when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Rose Tyler?”

Rose spun round alarmingly fast, following the voice to its recipient- an old man with a station master’s cap on. He seemed tall, but most adults did, and she did feel particularly small today.

“Yer cousin called down, said she was running late.” His voice was rough but friendly, using the term cousin with amused scepticism, perhaps as Cousin Mo had been her Grandad Prentice’s cousin rather than hers. “My name’s Wilf, why don’t you come and wait in the office until she gets here?”

Rose’s Mum had drilled the don’t talk to strangers rule into her head for as long as she could remember. It had always been the unquestionable right thing to do, especially round her part of London. But here, the rules seemed a bit different, the station was empty except for this man and a ginger cat staring at her through the station’s window. Hesitantly, Rose picked up her luggage and followed Wilf into the tiny room that housed two wrought iron benches and a desk. Wilf sat at the desk and she perched on the bench closest to the cat.

A radio crackled out music she didn’t recognise and the strong wind shook the windows in their frames. Rose resisted the urge to wrap her arms around her chest, not wanting to take up less space than she already did, The cat leisurely meandered across her lap a few times, before settling there. She stroked its ears absentmindedly and kept eyes trained on the clock hanging on the wall, pretending not to watch Wilf do some paperwork in her peripheral vision. Another quarter of an hour ticked past before Cousin Mo arrived. Like a small explosion she burst into the tiny room and cooed Rose’s name with the sort of confidence Rose could only pretend to have.

Mo opened her arms wide and obligingly Rose ran over to hug her. Her eyes closed desperately but still it didn’t feel like her mum. Giving her cousin a weak smile, she turned back to collect her bags.

Mo enthusiastically thanked Wilf, whom Rose gathered was a friend, and a close one at that. Before long Rose was trailing Cousin Mo along the single track road which wandered up a hill. It was flanked on either side with fields, animals and hedges. Rose wrinkled her nose at the pervasive stink of cow shit. Maybe she was a born Londoner like Mickey always claimed he was because this definitely felt wrong. She kept a careful distance between herself and her cousin, wanting to maintain enough silence to stay alone with her thoughts. Once Cousin Mo started it could be very difficult to stop her talking, she and her Mum always had the longest phone calls.

Her Mum was so far away now. Rose picked at the thumbnail of her free hand, the other pulling along her suitcase, they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere for all this walking.

As she felt the land flatten out as they reached the top of the hill, Rose looked up again and spotted the only signs of life since Wilf at the train station. By the roadside there was a clustered handful of painted shops and even a few people milling around. She took in her wider surroundings now that her view wasn’t blocked by the hill, there was so little here that she wasn’t sure what was important. There seemed to be a few cottages scattered, along with a church and a collection of farm buildings. There was another hill in the distance, but this one was really huge, hiking big. She’d never really thought about hills being that big before. Below and around the hill was a proper forest with tall trees and a stream that almost made it to the group of cottages that were furthest away.

It was to one of these cottages that her cousin now pointed.

“That beautiful one is home, honey.” Her Cousin Mo beamed with pride, oblivious to the aghast look on Rose’s face. Her cousin’s hand rested on Rose’s shoulder as they continued on. Rose didn’t like the weight of it, the small scale of this place started to make her feel trapped and so did the unashamed stares of the locals as they passed by the group of shops.

She didn’t want to look at the buildings when she felt everyone watching her, but her Cousin pointed it all out anyway. There was a faded red post office which had a chicken scratching around outside and a dairy shop which evidently sold ice cream given the huge plastic cone standing outside and a family sitting with some on a picnic bench. A dirt path interrupted the row of buildings, apparently leading to the church. Rose had a sinking feeling she would be expected to attend.  The next shop was a slightly larger one which sold what seemed like animal food and some farm equipment, the woman working there had dressed like she was from the Wild West. Everything here was so weird. There was even a dusty bookshop, a trinket shop that clearly hadn’t been open in years and one selling clothes, particularly woollen and wellington boots. The pub was the only thing that she could have found near her home and she’d never been inside one before so that was useless.

Cousin Mo’s cottage was admittedly pretty, but by the time they reached it Rose’s arm ached from lugging her suitcase. Even inside she was sure she could still smell cow shit faintly. Her cousin bustled into the rustic kitchen, intent on making them a cup of tea while Rose climbed the rickety stairs to her new bedroom.

Rose put the suitcase onto her bed and sat next to it. She wrapped her arms around herself now that no one could see her. She fought the urge to hold the teddy bear – well, moose- stuffed in her backpack, she was Year 6 now and she needed to grow up. This was going to be an awful summer.

When she finally felt obliged to go back to the kitchen Rose hovered for a moment in the doorway, feeling like stepping through would make this all her real life. There was a warm smell of baking and Rose’s tummy rumbled embarrassingly loud. Cousin Mo turned at the noise and Rose reluctantly took the step into the kitchen.

“That smells nice.” She didn’t know what else to say as she took a seat and a cup of tea.

“Thank you darling.” Cousin Mo’s easy smile always seemed unreasonably big. “It’s going to be a Victoria Sponge cake, I got the raspberry jam from Sarah Jane, I bet you’ll meet her soon ‘cos she runs the post office. She’s such a lovely woman, her son’s a bit older than you though..”

The rambling began and Rose switched off automatically, focusing instead on how her cousin’s accent was so indecisive now. A flash of horror overcame her when she pictured herself next term, returning to London with a Scottish accent. Rose straightened up in her chair abruptly at this vision, her previously swinging feet hitting the ground.

“Oh sorry Love, you must be bored with me rambling on. Why don’t you do me a favour and run along and let the neighbours know?”

“Know what?”

The awkward pause that followed made it clear to Rose that Cousin Mo had discussed this when she wasn’t listening.

Her cousin brushed some crumbs off of her floral dress before replying, sunny disposition maintained as usual.

“Just tell them there’ll be food on this table at 7. Thanks love.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Rose slipped off her chair and hurried abruptly out the door, so conscious of her obvious rudeness that she didn’t even pause to think about what she was doing until she’d walked out of her front gate and through the neighbours’.

The neighbours’ house was different. The garden was more haphazard than Mo’s with lots of tubs with strange plants in them and piles of carefully stacked logs that looked like sculptures. The house’s wooden door was a deep shade of blue she’d seen somewhere before and it held a strange door knocker that was long and thin and painted silver with a blue top. Rose almost reached for it before noticing the worn away note taped just below it.

‘Don’t bother using this, doesn’t work on wood.’

Feeling more anticipant of meeting these people, Rose knocked confidently three times on the door. She waited for what felt like an age, before accepting that no one could be coming. She stood there, unsure of what to do next. Spotting a path around the house that led to the back garden, Rose hesitantly walked over. As she peeked round the edge of the house she was met with a very unexpected sight.

There were three people here, and none of them were adults.

There were two ginger girls not far apart from each other. One of them, she seemed slightly older but maybe it was just her confident air, was lying on a blanket spread out on the lawn thoroughly engrossed in a Poirot paperback. The younger ginger girl sat on the edge of the blanket. Next to her were an assortment of nail varnishes although she wore none herself. Lying just off the blanket was a sleeping grey dog whose nails she was painting. To the dog’s left lay a boy, also dozing, whose nails were already painted.

The lack of adults made Rose more nervous about her task. Who was she supposed to tell about dinner? The scene seemed so intimate and casual that she immediately wished she was part of it although she was certain it couldn’t include her. She had been sure she wouldn’t fit in with the local kids, she hadn’t expected to want to until right now. She was in half a mind to turn back and beg Cousin Mo to let her off the hook about this, and maybe even have dinner alone in her room.

Suddenly, a voice shrieked from the treetops at the back of the garden.

“There’s an intruder in our camp!”

A boy just a little older than her with brown hair sticking up in all directions appeared in the window of a well concealed tree house, his face was alight with excitement. He stretched out to ring the old fashioned bell hooked to an adjacent tree. The other boy and the dog both awoke, clearly disorientated by the noise. The girl spilled her nail polish across the yellow blanket, as she craned her neck to see who had caused the alarm.

The book reader, glanced up once. Her gaze flickered around the garden before landing briefly on Rose, she turned then and addressed the treehouse.

“Well thank God you’re on watch, she looks really dangerous, what is she 10?” Her voice was affectionately mocking and Rose got the sense the pair might’ve been siblings.

With a quick breath and little thought, Rose stepped forward.

“11 actually.”

The dog wandered across to greet her, its tail wagging easily. It was beaten by the younger girl who bounced to a halt right in front of Rose.

“Hi, my name’s Amelia, I’m nearly 10.”

They began to introduce themselves with an ease that introductions don’t normally have. It was immediately evident that Amelia was not consistently named, also being called Amy, Pond and Little Ginge through the course of the conversation. Rory was the name of the sleeping boy, he was already 10, much to Amy’s frustration. Donna was 13 and although Rose saw that she was confident but she seemed eager to be part of the group rather than the leader. Then there was John who’d scrambled down the treehouse ladder quick as a flash, he spoke fast but his accent was clearer than the others so she managed to keep up. He said he’d had 12 years but the 13th was on the way soon. Rose was a little stumped by his phrasing, so instead she introduced herself. John grinned excitedly when she said her name as if it was something special. She liked that.  

They asked her to stay but she was starting to feel a bit small again so instead she relayed the message from her Cousin and made her exit soon after. The dog, K9, ambled happily along with her to their front gate. She gave the dog a quick pat on the head before heading back to Mo’s kitchen.

Anticipation fluttered around inside Rose when she headed back up to her new bedroom. The feeling of homesickness wasn’t so encompassing anymore. The calm room settled her and she continued to unpack, waiting for the clock hands to finally reach 7.


	2. 2.

The neighbours arrived so on time that the clock hadn’t even had the chance to strike. When she heard voices downstairs, Rose bounced to her feet and skittered to the kitchen. She was hungry and irrationally excited and it felt like her tummy was doing flips. She was hovering by the counter when they filed in.

Donna came in first and she gave Rose an easy smile. It struck Rose just how genuine the smile was and shyly she returned it. John bounded in next, peering over Donna’s shoulder in order to see the spread of food that Cousin Mo had provided, he shot a cheeky grin to Rose before rushing to fill a seat at the table. Finally, Wilf, closely followed by her cousin Mo, came into the kitchen. Rose immediately straightened up at the appearance of the station master, she had felt so small when she’d seen him last and she didn’t want to be thought of like that.

The meal began easily, Rose was a little unnerved to realise it was a proper meal with multiple courses and napkins. At home they always had meals in front of the telly unless it was Christmas or something. She fiddled a little nervously at first, trying to distinguish dessert spoons from soup ones. She watched the others as subtly as she could, and chose to copy Donna rather than John. The adult’s conversation had been ongoing since the doorway and seemed unlikely to end anytime soon. Turning to the other two at the table, Rose fought a bout of nerves to start a conversation.

“So, where’re Amy and Rory?”

John and Donna both paused, spoons wavering midway to bowl. Donna, answered first and John took the opportunity to eat some more bread.

“Amy’s actually our neighbour on the other side, she had to go home, and Rory, well he always follows her so…”

Donna shrugged, implying Rory’s presence had an absolute tie to Amy’s. Overhearing this exchange, Wilf spoke from the other side of the table.

“That boy’s besotted he is, he’ll marry her one day.”

“Whatever Grandad.” Dismissing his comment easily, Donna redirected the conversation.

“So what’s it like in London then? Is there lots of crime?” Rose’s mouth gaped open a little at the unexpected question and she tried to form a response.

“Uh sometimes yeah, but it’s not really scary.”

“What’s the worst thing you’ve seen happen?” Donna leaned forward ever so slightly as she asked and Rose started to feel a bit upset. She didn’t want to be treated like an alien. She starting picking her thumbnail under the table and tried to think of what to say that would change the subject.

“Ignore her, she’s obsessed with those bloody detective books. Thinks she’s going to be the next Agatha Christie.” John’s teasing words came just in time and earned him a smack from Donna.

“Says him! Did you see that ratty thing nailed to our door? He likes to call himself the ‘Doctor’ because of his stupid inventions and none of them even work!” Donna spoke more harshly than humorously and Rose felt the atmosphere deflate around her.

Rose’s eyes widened and being unsure of what to do she stayed quiet. Donna’s mouth was set defiantly against the lingering silence and Rose could tell that she was regretting her comments now more than she was feeling hurt by John’s. John said nothing else either, he just kept staring down at the dregs of his soup while his cheeks filled up red.

Rose helped her Cousin Mo serve out the next dish, it was shepherd’s pie and despite the uncertain atmosphere, Rose was excited. Her Mum made this shepherd’s pie too; it was a family recipe and it was the best. Cousin Mo laughed loudly at her obvious eagerness to eat, and thus encouraged the tension broke between the three children.

They spoke in between bites, telling funny stories about what had happened in their most recent school terms. Donna’s story about a music lesson gone wrong had the three of them in hysterics for several minutes. Feeling much more settled with the pair, Rose ventured another question she’d been dying to know.

“So are you brother and sister then?”

The pair shared a look of shock and absolute distaste at the suggestion which was practically comical. They both moved back in their chairs as if to indicate more distance between them.

“Definitely not.” John asserted while Donna shook her head vigorously, her mouth gaping as she searched for words. Rose held back a laugh at their dramatics.

“No, it was just easier this summer for us both to stay with my Grandad ‘cos my parents both work and...” Donna paused.

“And mine are dead.” John finished for her, his flat tone sending up warning signals. There was a clatter of cutlery and the adult’s conversation also fell silent. The room felt stuffy in the uncomfortable moment. Rose watched how John kept his head up but avoided eye contact with them all. Wilf cleared his throat and Rose thought he was preparing to speak.

“’Scuse me.” John beat him to it, he stood up abruptly and left. Rose and Donna both jumped a little when the front door slammed.

“Poor soul.” Cousin Mo murmured worriedly. The feeling of being small returned again to Rose, but this was more like when she’d seen her Mum cry. It felt suddenly like the room was full of big things that she didn’t really understand and all she could feel were the aftershocks.

 “Best to just leave him I think.” Wilf spoke sadly and Rose thought he seemed so old and tired. “He usually just needs a bit of time and space and then he feels better.”

The dinner tried half-heartedly to continue and Cousin Mo even brought out the Victoria Sponge cake. The conversation trickled for a bit and then dried up. When Wilf finally noted that it was time to head away there was a feeling of relief.

It occurred to Rose that this must be a very common practice for the two neighbours. She watched as Wilf gave Cousin Mo a quick peck on the cheek and stored it away for her next phone-call with her Mum. She stared at her hands while the others stood up, her thoughts had been piling up and she wasn’t sure what was right to do. Donna moved over to her, probably to say goodbye, but instead, Rose couldn’t help but blurt out.

“’M sorry. About asking and everything.”

When she finally tore her eyes away from her hands Rose saw the same smile she’d seen earlier from Donna and suddenly she was a bit lighter. While Cousin Mo saw her guests out, Rose felt an impulse and in a rush chose to follow it.

She met Cousin Mo in the corridor as she turned back from the door.

“Can I go out for a bit?” Rose rushed. She was trying to seem calm but she felt a bit jittery standing in front of her sort of guardian with napkin parcels in her hands. Cousin Mo blinked once at her request, looked her over and seeming unable to find a place to begin, just said.

“Yeah okay love, stay close though, and be back by dark!”

 

Rose took her time shutting the front door and lingering outside the neighbour’s front gate. She willed time to hurry up as she waited for Donna and her Grandad to head inside their cottage. Once she’d counted out a minute in her head, Rose entered their front garden. She tried to stay quiet as she went around the house hoping desperately she wouldn’t be spotted by its inhabitants. She prayed trespassing wasn’t a proper crime in Scotland.

Trying to climb the treehouse ladder without dropping her napkin parcels wasn’t easy but she managed. She knocked the trap door open with her head as she ascended and it clattered against the wooden floor. As soon as her view became clear she peeked into the room, wondering and hoping if she’d been right. She didn’t feel as happy as she expected about being correct.

John sat in the far corner of the cluttered little room. It was much darker in here with only one window that was behind Rose. His eyes met hers but he didn’t speak. Despite some obvious shock at her loud appearance, John’s face stayed brooding and he turned his cheek away from her evidently trying to hide tear tracks.Rose realised then that he was nothing like other boys she knew. Suddenly at a loss for what to say, she stood there feeling stupid. He averted his eyes and she watched him focus on picking at his fingernails as if it would make everything else go away.

Rose went to sit a few feet away from him her legs crossing automatically like she was back in school. She leant forward and placed one of the napkin bundles in front of him. When he realised it was a slice of the Victoria Sponge, John gave her a small smile. They ate their respective slices slowly, sharing tentative smiles. When the cake was gone, Rose didn’t know what to say. She watched as he drew his knees up to his chin and hugged them. She saw that emotions passed over his expressive face like clouds.

Rose’s Dad had died when she was really young, but she didn’t think that was so much like this. His pain looked raw but she’d only ever felt a phantom pain for her Dad, it was filled with the what ifs but not memories.

For a moment Rose imagined if she never saw her Mum again. A lump rose like a balloon in her throat and she tried to control her instant reaction to the stray thought. Rose could feel her heart thudding from the unconceivable awfulness of a world without her Mum. She threw a panicked look across the room at John, he caught it easily with a stormy one of his own. Rose wasn’t sure if John looked older or younger than his age. The resignation to his pain made him look a bit like Wilf had when John had left earlier. But Rose also thought he looked like a little lost boy who kept running because he was so sure that his parents were just round the next corner. She had known that feeling, from museum trips gone wrong or that awful moment that happened sometimes at the supermarket. She couldn’t imagine living it.

Rose wished she could show him how her heart felt right now but instead she tried to find the right words. There weren’t any, she tried anyway.

“I think you’d be a really good Doctor.”

John’s head, which had been resting on his knees, tilted slightly to face her better.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m sure of it.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m an astronaut floating in space, all by myself.”

His confession was sudden and his voice trembled. The air felt unbearably heavy. Rose scooted across the floorboards, sitting by his side so their shoulders were touching. She spoke sincerely but the words were instinctual.

“If you look down at Earth I’ll be the one that’s waving.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah I promise.”

 

The sun finally set, and when the darkness descended it really descended. There were no street lights here and Rose thought it looked absurd outside without them. Maybe it was nice to see the stars though.

About an hour later when she’d moved to draw the curtains in her new room, Rose spotted the space man- well boy- heading back inside his own house. He looked up as her shadow blocked the light from her room and gave her a quick wave.

That night Rose’s dreams were fast and vivid, filled with her impatience for the next day of summer.


End file.
